Will you think of me, when I am gone?
That is the burning question.

Will you, won't you, can you, can't you remember me ?" He beamed sentimentally on Nora, who beamed on him in return, at the same time making almost imperceptible signs to Grace to capture the plate of cakes, of which Hippy was still in possession.

In his efforts to be impressive, Hippy had, for the moment, forgotten the cakes.

But he was not to be caught napping.

The instant Grace made a sly movement toward the plate it was whisked from under her fingers.
"Naughty, naughty, mustn't touch!" he exclaimed, eyeing Grace reprovingly.
"Let him alone, girls, and come over here," broke in David Nesbit.